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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Pacing wasn't a thing that Benare would usually find himself doing, in fact, it was something he'd rarely do, but the Ravokian found it odd that his partner in training hasn't yet found their meeting location, Benare requested someone to train him, most preferably someone like a mercenary within the family's connections. Pacing just felt to be something he'd figure he should do to get his mind thinking about training, if he thought about training he might get into a state where his adrenaline will provide him enough energy for the day. Eventually, the Nitrozian decided to withdraw his blade, a short sword, it was strapped to his pants, and his cotton shirt was tucked in, he didn't like the strap of the belt itching at his skin, he had his shield with him as well.

The gardens were entrancing, he felt that they were beautiful, but with his way of thinking, he figured that describing the gardens with the word, "beautiful," it didn't suit his thinking, after all, Ravokians don't usually see the glorious end of things. The Nitrozian studied the short sword, it felt light, holding it by the hilt, but he figured that the weight would shift if he held it by the blade, though, who in their right minds would hold the sword by the blade, that would be crazy, stupid even. Ben tested the blade by testing the weight, he took up his usual fighting stance when he has his sword and shield (shield poised in front of his chest and blade tilting at an angle), the Nitrozian practiced a few times swinging his blade in thin air, getting a feel for the blade, merely, to get used to it.

It's not that he wasn't used to the blade, he was fairly used to it indeed, he'd merely practice with it almost every morning-afternoon, on most days when he had his days free, which in reality is practically every day unless his father, Sitanos, had something planned for them for one of those days, or Ben would usually find himself checking up on the family businesses. Still practicing his swings, he felt his muscles begin to work as he swung over and over, the blade continued to create swishing sounds as it struck through thin air, it was a sound that always made Ben smile, but now he was beginning to get agitated, he stopped.

The Nitrozian looked around and noticed a man with a broadened figure come walking through the gardens. "You must be Barholomew, correct?" Asked Ben looking at the man before him, as the man continued to walk over to Ben. Ben tensed up just to be sure that that was who he was, if he wasn't, and this man was coming for Benare, oh... he had another thing coming, it's always a good thing to be cautious of others around you, after all, this is Ravok, and you could never be so sure of who to trust.

There was something that brought unease to Bartholomew about the Nitrozian estate. He was used to big buildings, in fact he lived in a mansion half this size but just as big, but the knowledge that members of great power resided here made him tense. If he did something stupid like break a vase or insult a Nitrozians while in their home, he could probably be murdered without a second thought. This was why he was always on guard, and always watching his tongue. It was an odd feeling, intimidation, but he was used to it having lived with his father. Even still, the intimidation had a good amount of effect on him and he found himself constantly wondering why he even stepped inside the Nitrozian's home.

It's just another job, Bartholomew found himself thinking. It's nothing big... I'm just helping a Nitrozian train.

Word of who his father was had somehow reached the ears of the Nitrozian. Don Dicey was a respectable man among his peers, and rightfully feared by nearly everyone around him, even his family. At the knowledge that such a strong heir worked under them, the Nitrozians set to work Bartholomew extra hard, thinking him capable of each task they gave him. Thankfully, he hadn't failed them yet. Hopefully, he wouldn't fail them at all.

In truth, almost every job he received form the Nitrozian were life threatening, but this one seemed to be a little safer. All he had to do was practice with a Nitrozian, rough him up a little and help him better himself. He didn't have to kill anyone or try to survive an attack. The fact that this seemed like an easier job calmed Bartholomew a little, but he still worried. What if he accidentally killed the Nitrozian because the man was too weak? What sort of terrible life would he live then?

While Bartholomew mulled these worries, he failed to notice that he was lost. Petch me, he inwardly cursed when he finally realized. Another reason why he didn't like the Nitrozian estate was that it was too big. It housed every Nitrozian while also providing rooms that fit their needs. If a person like Bartholomew, who had no knowledge of the mansion's grounds, were to go through a door with uncertainty: they would be lost in this home forever!

Eventually, after looking through the rooms, Bartholomew ran into a maid that was caring for a spider inside a small cage. "Hello," were the words he said surprisingly meekly. The intimidation of the home certainly got to him, because now he was feeling like a kid again, who had spent the entire day with his father.

Clearing his throat, he spoke a little louder and more formal. "My name is Bartholomew. I was supposed to spar with someone today but I seemed to have lost my way. Would you mind showing me to the gardens?"

The maid smiled and pointed towards a direction. "Certainly, right this way sir." Without saying anymore she began to walk. Bartholomew followed after her, trying his hardest to keep up. The woman moved through the buildings like she had done it a hundred times, and she walked with a great amount of speed, which surprised Bartholomew who noticed that she was wearing heels. Other maids barely looked towards Bartholomew's direction. They all performed their jobs with great professionalism, making Bartholomew a little impressed with how the Nitrozian's trained their servants. His father also had maids and butlers, but the butlers were merely for protection purposes and the maids normally lazied about until his father arrived. The young Dicey had reported many maids for their slack, hoping that there would finally be a change in his workers, but the more servants he reported the lazier the maids got. Eventually, Bartholomew had his father fire over 20 maids for not doing their job, and he murdered over 10 slaves. That definitely set them straight.

Soon enough, thanks to the maid, Bartholomew arrived at the gardens, a little out of breath from all the walking. The maid left him in a hurry, probably rushing to do more work, and he stood alone in front of two double doors. He opened them silently, trying his best not to disturb whoever was inside.

When he entered, Bartholomew was almost flabbergasted with how luxurious the gardens looked. His mother also grew a garden in their home, but that could never compare to the field of beauty he beheld. There were alluring colors in ever flower, brightful shines to every vine, and the smell made his nose tingle with delight. Bartholomew would've lost himself in this garden's beauty if it were not for the other man inside swinging his shortsword.

The young Dicey watched with a raised brow as the man went over his technique with both the one-handed sword and a shield. He was impressed with what the man could do, as his steps and practice showed that he knew what he was doing. With enough time, Bartholomew was sure this man would master his own style, but it was Bartholomew's duty to make sure the man's time went by faster. Eventually, the man stopped as he expressed signs of agitation. Maybe swinging the sword in the air wasn't enough? It was probably Bartholomew's turn to enter, so he began walking towards the man.

On Bartholomew's back held his Bastard Sword, the famed weapon of his family. His dagger sat hidden under his belt. He shot the man a stare as he silently walked over, looking at and through him to try and notice everything about him. "Yes, I am Bartholomew Dicey," was what he finally said when he drew closer to the man. "And you must be the Nitrozian I am here to spar with. I'm sorry, though, I didn't quite catch your name. Who are you?"

Benare studied the man for a moment, the man that continued towards his way as Ben gripped the hilt of his short sword lightly, he wasn't tensed at this moment as he received a response from this man, this man whom confirmed him to be Bartholomew. Not just any Bartholomew, but Benare recalled his father being quite intimidating, the Nitrozian remembered his father, Sitanos telling him of days when Don Dicey had his moments, his moments to express the relative darkness that pretty much everyone who resides within Rhysol's city, darkness. Benare sighed, he continued to study the man with his sword belted to the back of his body, Benare figured it odd to see the sword belted behind him instead of it being at the casual side of one's body. Once Bartholomew Asjed of Benare who he was, the Nitrozian cocked a brow, he sent a letter, with his signature, of course some people might've forgotten, but Benare wouldn't expect it from a man like Bartholomew to forget.

"Yes, I am Bartholomew Dicey," said Bartholomew as he was heading for Benare, the Nitrozian sighed a sigh of relief and began to sheath his blade, he'd done so with little effort and it clicked. "Ah, good."He said slowly, he'll let this first time slide, the Nitrozian cleared his throat, before answering the man who asked of whom he was. "I am Benare, Ben, you can call me Ben."The Nitrozian responded with a shake of Bartholomews hand. The Ravokian was glad that he was finally able to meet his training partner, "you'll be training me yes?" Asked Ben with a nod.

It's always more fun to train with people than by one self, Ben had always a knack for training, he just didn't know what father would say about it, yes he does eventually check on the other business around town, but Benare also concealed his training with the free time he had left to spare for those days to train. "So, how would you be training me today, simple instructions, or how else would we go about it? We can talk about pay... after training. If you behave, I could perhaps talk my father into increasing your allowance, yes?" Benare added, hoping to have Bartholomew to train him as long as he could, it would definitely be a great deal to Ben, and plus Bartholomew would learn a few things out of it as well, as long as he cooperates.

Benare Nitrozian, now that was a name Bartholomew didn't recognize. Of course, the only Nitrozian he knew, and the only Nitrozian he needed to know was Sitanos, his boss. Bartholomew had no interest in the 21 children Sitanos fathered.

Benare seemed like a nice and respectable man, which gave Bartholomew a bit of reassurance. For a while after being given this assignment, he prayed that the Nitrozian wasn't a spoiled brat. The least he wanted was to deal with a kid who whined about everything. Sissies weren't meant to fight, only stand and give orders while their soldiers pretended to follow.

"Train you?" Bartholomew raised a brow and tilted his head when Benare spoke of training. "You are confused. Training involves teaching, and I am not here to teach." The young Dicey had originally planned to show the man the proper stances of fighting, but Benare already seemed accustomed to that. What came next was experience, something Bartholomew was given in a more life threatening way. "Tell me, Ben. Have you ever killed a man?"

Bartholomew ended his words there. Depending on what the man said, he would react accordingly. He wouldn't be surprised, though, if the man said no. Plenty of people went lifetimes without killing a single soul, but taking up the sword meant preparing to kill, and those that weren't prepared were killed.

The Nitrozian had spent his time with father whenever he needed to, he didn't ask too much of Sitanos, Ben didn't really get along well with his other twenty siblings, he didn't quite understand why there had to be so much of them. He should at least try to get to know them, it wouldn't be that hard to at least try to know his other siblings, it'll help on the long run, or so he thought...

Ben wasn't as self reliant as Sitanos is, well, he's quite independent, he likes to do things himself, he works on things himself and will work on it until he thinks it's something that poses as a mere challenge to his efforts. He'll give up, and have someone else take a crack at it, though training, that was something that he needed to keep up with, one day without training then his whole schedule will be messed up, for the most part, at least. Ben always ran on a timely schedule, it was something that kept him going day in- day out, if he had nothing to do, he wouldn't know where to be, he had to something, all the time.

The Nitrozian looked up at Bartholomew, he studied the man's face, it looked tense, Ben noted, but he wasn't so sure how tense this man was, his father was intimidating, but if Don ever intimidated his family, or if anyone for that matter, they have another thing coming. Benare cocked a brow, after taking in the scoff of a rhetoric question, Bartholomew figured that Ben was being funny, he didn't like it when people doubted him, it was a thing that made him feel that other people were perceiving him as a weak man. He won't take that route, cocking his head, Benare looked to be displeased with Bartholomew, he did want the man to train him, sure now he admits that Bartholomew can't teach him officially, but he could what... what will he do then?

"Tell me, Ben. Have you ever killed a man?" Ben sighed, he hasn't killed a man before, but how would Bartholomew tell... he has stabbed a man once, a near fatal injury to the chest, the man threatened him with a dagger and struck at him, so Ben defended himself the man wanted his money, Ben wasn't going to give it to him, and he has fought against others before, at bars as well, when he was drunk. "I've never killed a man." He said truthfully, wavering his hand around, "but, I have stabbed and fought other men before..." he added looking at Bartholomew trying to observe any signs of confirmation that he'll be able to aid him in his training, hoping that he'll continue to aid him. "But, I'm ready to kill, if that's what it takes to learn from you..."